


A Sick Day

by Pax_Kerbalica



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Beck and Johanssen as Roommates, Dr. Bossy Beck is Bossy, Gen, Johanssen Has Sleeping Issues, Mark Watney (Mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 08:30:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20945366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pax_Kerbalica/pseuds/Pax_Kerbalica
Summary: Johanssen ends up getting sick, but would still very much like to work. Beck is having none of it.





	A Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> My first work on the fandom. Inspiration to both write and participate in this fandom in particular are from daniellemydear.

Dr. Chris Beck was sitting at the breakfast table, begrudging waiting for his roommate to arrive. This was in itself a normal occurrence.

While most people would naturally wake up before 8 in the morning, programmers don’t tend to have this common sense. In fact, a programmer having any sort of sleep schedule was a miracle. After numerous attempts to correct this, Beck eventually had to let his roommate do as they pleased. So every morning, he would brush his teeth, get dressed, cook breakfast, eat breakfast, and still be waiting on a certain sysop to get out of bed.

But after finishing his second cup of coffee, Beck figured the normal routine was out the window.

Getting out of the chair, Beck maneuvered around the table, made a right, and went about a dozen steps before stopping and making a left. He quietly knocked on the door in front of him, and then knocked another three times for good measure. After not hearing so much as a peep, the doctor finally decided to call for his roommate.

“Johanssen.”

No response.

“Johanssen!”

Still no sysop.

“Guess I’ll just let myself in then,” said Beck he prepared to enter Johanssen’s room. He did, of course, mentally prepare himself. Waltzing into Johanssen’s room was an unpleasant experience not because she immediately kicked people out, but because she got very easily grumpy whenever anyone walked in on her sleeping.

So Beck forced himself through the door and into the room. Johanssen, as per usual, made a noise of general disapproval. But when said noise sounded a lot more like a drowned cat than the usual pissed off wolf, Beck had to admit something was up. Looking to the right, he could see Johanssen more still than usual (even by Johanssen standards in the morning).

“Johanssen, you alright?”

“...”

“Johanssen?”

“Never better Beck.”

“Can you even stand up now?” Beck inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Johanssen, in response, actually started moving. After rolling over, she firmly gripped her blanket with one hand, and then applied her other. Using the newly found leverage, the sysop managed to enter something resembling an upright position. Her short hair didn’t scatter, but merely flopped in a direction better suited for gravity. “Sure,” Johanssen retorted.

At this point, the doctor in Beck finally took action. He quickly brought his hand to her forehead, feeling the rather drastic temperature difference between the sysop and her surroundings.

“You’re sick.”

“No dibs Sherlock,” Johanssen replied with a lazy grin. Beck, of course, rolled his eyes.

“Get back down. I’ll get some stuff from my room.”

So Beck quickly darted out of Johanssen’s room, and into his room across the hall. He quickly opened the small grey medicine cabinet on his desk to the right, and dexterously managed to grab the right pills. Shortly after, he took a quick detour to the kitchen to get a glass of water. By the time Beck had returned, Johanssen had apparently had enough of sitting up, and was lying down again, with her eyes lazily gazing towards Chris.

“Take these two pills with some water. Lie down afterwards, and you should get better by tomorrow.”

“Wow,” Johanssen replied with a small grin. “You’re bossy this early in the morning.” 

“It’s 8 in the morning.”

“Still early.”

Beck, of course, rolled his eyes again.

“By the way, could you get me my laptop? It’s over on my desk. You can’t miss it.”

Beck responded near instantly. 

“Nope.”

“Beck, do you really-”

“Again. Nope. Just take a break from your programs. Doctor’s orders.”

“I didn’t even say I was going to work! I’m just going to play some games.”

Beck folded his arms, and did his best impression of a stern commander. 

“We both know you have issues with controlling work habits. After all, what have you been staying up until 3 in the morning for the past week?”

Johanssen opened her mouth to speak, before immediately closing it. Trying her best to avoid continuing the failing conversation, she sheepishly looked away.

“Fine, you got me,” Johanssen hoarsely replied after the silence grew to be enough.

“Just rest, alright? Your programs can wait.” After hearing Johanssen’s silent acceptance, the doctor decided to push his luck. “Also, I’m setting a curfew for you.”

At this, Johanssen’s eyes darted open. Her mind lit up with a dozen responses, but at this point, being concise seemed to be important.

“Doc, seriously!?”

“Yep.”

“What am I, six?”

Beck chuckled in response, before responding “Pretty much. You still act like a six year old who just found out they could stay up past midnight.”

In response, Johanssen could only blush, hoping Beck would change the subject.

“Look Beth,” Beck replied. He quickly pulled his arms out, gesturing out towards Johanssen. “I care about you. It’s fine to work a lot, but you take it a little too far. You do know you need sleep, right?”

Johanssen finally managed to look Beck in the eyes again. After an awkward silence, Beth finally managed to respond.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

“WHOO!” Beck exclaimed, probably startling all their neighbors.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Watney made a bet. He bet 50 bucks that I wouldn’t get you to cooperate.”

Johanssen could only snort in reply. “Classic Watney. Like the good doctor you are, you’ll share half of it with me, right?”

“Johanssen, no.”

“Johanssen, yes.”

At seemingly random, a hearty cough interrupted the conversation. One cough quickly turned into three, and soon Johanssen was clutching her chest in pain, visibly cringing. Beck took control of the situation once Johanssen had settled.

“Alright, take your pills.” Johanssen quickly complied, washing down the pills without much complaint. Shortly after, Johanssen yawned.

“Alright, just take it easy.”

“You know, it’s funny.”

“What is?” Beck stopped just as he reached the door frame, looking over his shoulder at the lying sysop.

Johanssen mustered up the last of her energy for precisely one shit eating grin. 

“You finally got me to agree to a better sleep schedule, and now I’m sleeping the morning away.”

Beck took a second to process her retort, only to snort in realization of the implications. 

“Well, that can wait for tonight.”

“And you claim you’re not a procrastinator Chris.”

“Just get some rest Beth.”

Johanssen closed her eyes, and heard Beck closing the door rather gently.

“Alright doc.”


End file.
